Lackadaisical
by LightSorceress
Summary: One shot prologue of a future story of a team striving to win the leagues. It features ignored foreign players like Pierre, Napoleon, Gino, Santana, etc. Watch Eiswein FC rise from the other teams to victory!


Lackadaisical

Elle Cid Pierre knew that there would come a time when he'll go to Germany. He has already packed his luggage secretly, and waited for _his divine_ announcement preferably for the fact that he can book the nearest flight to Schwerin.

Peacefully sitting down on the smooth surfaced Morris chair, he took light sips from his wine before edgily putting it down on the neat tabletop. Sighing, he could only wait… wait for _his_ call. He knew he could trust _him_ and it was the same for that _significant person_.

Truthfully, Pierre accepted going to Germany. Not only could he escape from the elated fans and the hot-blooded teammates, he can help hoist a new name to add in his constant fame of being the French maestro on the soccer field. He was also bored with his old team.

He smirked, calmly swerving the wineglass from side to side, surveying its white liquid sparkle from the radiant light of the sun. A dazzling chuckle escaped his peach soft lips. " This team… Eiswein…sounds interesting…"

Pierre finished the last of his drink before leaning down on the too comfy chair, ironically feeling uncomfortable and excited. He easily lifts himself up and picked a black hair tie to nonchalantly bind it around his summery golden hair. He smiles as he feels his dreadlocks fall beneath his ears in small golden ringlets, obviously proud for keeping such fine hair. A lot of women fancy and envy Pierre's golden mane too much, claiming it to be a sign of endearing grace from the maestro. But Napoleon, in his baneful theory, declares it to be a display of womanliness from the Captain.

_Bah, who cares?_ Pierre gracefully strides towards a large clearing in the living room. He lifts his hands and slowly pivots. He bows lowly and starts a ballet… that male solo in the nutcracker.

Starting ballet at an extremely youthful age made an extreme turn point to him when he entered soccer. Applying the knowledge and…experiences he earned in ballet made him a maestro on the field. This is again, a sign of utter femininity from the Captain. Not that he cared. He ignored advices from his previous coaches and teammates who just pleaded for him to play normally.

When was in the point of leaping to the air, a loud, ringing tone shook Pierre from his deep, meditative trance.

" _SACRE BLEU!!"_

He nearly slides on the burgundy carpets like slime. Grabbing the nearby furniture for safety, he feebly stands up to obtain his cell phone hellishly ringing the French national hymn.

He manages a slightly winded voice before picking it up " …B-Bonjour?"

There was a loud garble from the receiving end of Pierre's phone before he heaves another breath for reply " Je vais bien… Coach Miller."

He had a lengthy pause, expectant of what Coach was telling him. He jadedly smiles " Yes… Thank you, Coach Kopen Miller. I shall see you first thing."

He puts his cell phone down and smiles complacently. " Germany, here comes Elle Cid Pierre!"

Walking like the smug captain that he is, he picks up his luggage and goes to the front door to greet a limousine ready to pick him up.

Travel by car felt so short. He was barely conscious of his surroundings because of his tremendous excitement, eventually driving him to being nauseous and nearly barfing out the car's window. Thankfully, if it wasn't for the limousine's sudden stop, he could've really vomited. Quickly stumbling out the limo, he leans down, panting, forcing a lump down his throat. The lump burned, forcing tears at the corner of his eyes.

Pierre gets his luggage from the chauffeur and heads in the airport.

" This day couldn't get worse." he murmured under his breath.

* * *

Coach Kopen Miller paced from left to right. He was tapping his wristwatch more than once, and shuffling his hands irregularly, detesting the cold weather.

He didn't want to be kept waiting under these conditions. No way in hell.

Standing outside Schwerin airport, Miller heaved a loud, foggy breath and paced around his BMW. " Damn… those two are late!"

Before he takes another roundabout pace, another pair of boots echoed behind him. He expected it was that French blond captain. He only shuffled his legs and smirked.

" Sigh, you're so late Pierre—"

He turns and was surprised not to see the captain. He was surprised to see someone twice as small as he is. No way is a French as small as this—save for Napoleon Bonaparte anyway.

And out of everything that he saw was compelling, it would be that _oddly_ insidious smirk… oddly, since it came from a girl.

" Elle Cid Pierre? So he's going to head the team." That person smirks, wrapping the robes around her small figure tighter, preventing the cold from sweeping her senses. " And you're Coach Kopen Miller, I presume."

Miller nods and immediately takes his hand out of his pockets to shake with the woman. " Good to see you, Miss Kakutama Kaede."

Kaede looks briefly at his hand and softly shakes it. Miller's hand was in stark contrast with hers, immediately interpreting how much of a coach Miller is. The fingers and palm were taut and rough, and her hand could easily be grinded to brittle by immense power.

" I expect a lot from you." He grins condescendingly, seeing Kaede wince while rubbing her hand.

She growls meekly, gazing at Coach " I'm more than meets the eye, Coach Miller. You of all people should know that since you've decided to pick _me_, a middle-class student, off the streets of Sicily."

Miller couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her statement. " You must be oblivious! You're not—"

" _COACH!!"_

Pierre ran with his luggage flung around his back. And little did he know of Kaede's presence when he quickly drops his luggage, letting it land on her tiny foot.

" _Oh GOD!!!_ _JEEZ_!!" Kaede yells in pain and kicks Pierre's bag away. _" FUCK!! What the hell are you carrying!?!?"_

Pierre quickly snatches his bag and wipes traces of snowflakes on the rawhide facade. " _Shit!_ Don't you _KNOW_ how much this cost me!?"

" Do I look like I care!?" Kaede leans down, exercising it a bit. " It's amazing how people could make so many expensive bags like that coming from poor animals …"

Kaede barely receives a warning glower from the French Captain.

Miller slaps his head crossly and sighs. " Kaede, meet Pierre, your Captain. Pierre, meet Kaede, your Team Manager."

Kaede groans a bit as she stood up. " Elle Cid Pierre. Captain." She doesn't fight a recurring smirk. " Kakutama Kaede."

Pierre was surprised. He circles her, slightly pondering. " Manager? Just recruited?"

" Of course." Kaede takes out a neatly folded paper from her robes. " Here's my proof."

" It's the same envelope I got…" Pierre inspects it and found it baffling… "Sacre Bleu… you were planning to send more letters to other players…?"

Miller bares a smug grin " Bingo. I even have the expense ready." He marches gruffly and opens the car. " Come on. I want to go away from this blasted cold already… get in the car."

Those two stuffed their things in the car and sat at the second row. Miller starts the engine and they drive off.

Kaede rubs her hands tenderly and blows warm air. She loosens her red knitted scarf and looks at Pierre. She grimaces a bit, just recognizing how womanly he looked. " Captain, has anyone complained of your looks…?"

Pierre turns his head at her, raising an eyebrow. " Complain of my looks?" he chuckles. " Coach happens to like _my look_."

Miller grumbles loudly as he drove. " I _ONLY_ said I like how you play, Pierre!"

" I do have a signature in how I play, Coach. And when I mean _signature in how I play_, I stand it as one of my looks."

Kaede rolls her eyes and faced the window, leaving traces of disgust scrawled on her face. _Gods… how conceited can he get!_

The streets were awfully quiet, unlike either France or Italy… the drifting snow was less, and looked like falling ashes instead… Schwerin has fantastic views of its lakes, and Schwerin Castle must be such a magnificent sight.

Kaede wondered where the soccer fields were located. Schwerin looked a bit rigid on the city part, and is surrounded by lakes.

" I primarily customized one small part of a district into a private soccer field and managed to build a three floored dormitory." Coach suddenly explains, snapping Kaede from her reverie and in some way answers her thoughts at the same time.

" District? How big?"

Pierre wonders loudly " Must be big, considering you are hiring top soccer players. Hopefully, you're not putting _all_ the top players in one team! It's nonsense!"

Miller's silence met Pierre's remark… the silence was so sarcastic it was scary.

" You're joking…" a hoarse laugh from Pierre as he turns to look at the front view mirror at coach.

The manager pulls up, watching the red light beam from an overhead post. "Well… some of the top players." He smirks at Pierre, watching his expression stretch as far as distress.

Kaede seemed amused of Pierre's antics. " Like who, Coach?" she grins in excitement.

Upon seeing the red light turn green, he quickly maneuvers the car towards a thicket of forests. " Hmmm… Let me think…" he says in a mock wondering tone.

Pierre growls in an underlying tone. " Don't pull my strings, Coach… you're going to make me _CAPTAIN_ of a team full of—"

Pretending not to hear the whining captain, Miller reminisces a list of players he recently prepared. " Karl-Heinz Schneider."

Horror flashed on Pierre's face. It's a wonder what he's scared of such a sweet and caring guy.

" Gino Hernandez."

Kaede lets out an endearing fan squeal that chilled Pierre off his sanity. " GINOOOO!!!!!"

" Juan Diaz and Alan Pascal."

" Franz Schester, Dieter Muller, Manfred Magas and Hermann Karltz."

" Brian Cruyfford, Stefan Levin, Salvatore Gentile."

" Carlos Santana, and Rivaul."

" Ahh yes. And Louis Napoleon's going to be joining you."

" _GAH!!! COACH! CAPTAIN FAINTED!!!"_

" What?! Why the hell would he faint!? Bugger—what the fuck!!" Coach halts the car on the side and quickly takes a meticulous move in trying to revive the Captain in whatever way possible. " Damn it, what did I say that made him so messed up?" he growls and violently fans Pierre with Kaede's clipboard.

Not thinking twice, the manager dispassionately retorts. " Captain doesn't like to be tense, that's why he always does some meditative dancing to cool his head off, otherwise he would end up like this." She sighs as she lets him sit up straight, whilst adjusting him once or twice to prevent him from falling anywhere.

Coach takes on a perturbed look and sighs " let him rest on your lap."

" There is no way I'm letting him on my lap!"

" Kakutama! NOW!"

Kaede sighed and cringes as she slowly lets Pierre's head easily rest on her lap. The disheveled hair was scattered across her lap, and his eyes were gravely morose.

Damn this… Kaede shifted from her seat as soon as the ride continues.

She could easily scent her Captain's _drug-induced_ men's cologne, and damn does it smell intoxicating. Now it's no wonder to her why fans are always obsessing over the Captain.

" He must be some kind of dissatisfied gender-switched lesbian…" Kaede unknowingly murmurs…

* * *

A good hour has passed with nothing but detestable silence. Kaede was bored staring out the window, and by some means gotten used to the grating weight pressed on her lap. Coach was steering quietly, probably an act as if he was savoring the silence, because his diffident expression said otherwise.

" Are we there yet?" Kaede mumbled loudly, knowing the answer of such a classical question.

Miller rolled his eyes. " Not yet."

"When are we going to get there?"

" Hmm… probably after 15 minutes. Wake him up."

Kaede smirks and pats Pierre's head " réveiller, Captain Pierre. We're nearly there."

After a couple of turns, he doesn't wake up.

" _CAPTAIN!!"_

" _Oomph, GAH!!"_

The car suddenly stops. Pierre was violently flung from Kaede's lap to the hard mats of the car. There was silence. Then the air filled with Kaede's rampant laughter. Pierre groans and rubs his head before sitting up to glare at her.

" What?" Kaede snorts, " I took care of you and you give me that look?"

" I never asked you to take care of me."

" Uhuh…" Kaede grins and clicks the car's door open.

Miller watches Kaede's belligerent face suddenly revert into surprise. " A beauty, isn't it…?"

" Oh…my… gosh…" Kaede gasps. " It's a masterpiece!"

Over the grassy horizon stands a building of ivory white, standing erect with four floors and wide paned windows. And beneath its lofty premises lies two gigantic football fields surrounded with pine trees. The wind was cool and nature was all around. This is their home base… training ground, rather.

" Coach, how…!?" Kaede chuckles, stepping forth to examine the view. _…Eiswein's going to rock the world…_ she smirks inwardly.

Miller smirks, proudly looking at the buildings. " I have the money and connections, Miss Kakutama. This wouldn't be here if it weren't for them."

" Coach… you built this…?" spoke Pierre who came out just after Kaede did. His aquamarine eyes were scanning through the façade…

" Technically the workers, but yes." He replied authoritatively. " And from this day onwards, this will be called the Weinfass facility, honing all of your soccer abilities through friendlies, matches, and leagues. I trust that you will take your job seriously, because I'm planning to make the Eiswein team reach up so that the world will know of its existence."

" Yes Coach!!" replied the two enthusiastically as they walked towards the facility in satisfaction.

* * *

Milan, Italy

Gino has a dislike for mail ever since he entered the soccer world. There was never a day without mail being piled up in his mailbox, and he had to scavenge for his family's mail buried along with his fan's colorful ones.

" Gino!" Gentile calls with a droll tone " Mail!"

It was morning. And of all the things that Salvatore had to rouse him from his sleep, it had to be mail. Grumbling, he stands and stretches. And to clear his mind, he goes to the bathroom to wash up and brush his teeth.

" _How many years will it take you to just go down, CAPTAIN!!!"_ Gentile snarled loudly from downstairs. Gods, he had to yell. Does he know that they're in a dorm?

He goes to his closet to pull out a pair of khakis and a white shirt with Italy's flag. He quickly pulls it on him and combs his hair with his fingers.

" _CAPTAIN! I'M DYING FROM OLD AGE!"_

Gino rolled his eyes and goes out of his room, striding in quick pace. " This has to be good, Gentile!!" Gino yells as he comes down.

He was oddly greeted with the scent of the breakfast meal on the table. Gentile was glaring at him from the other side of the table. " It's as important as daylight, Captain."

" And what's so _important as daylight_ with mail?" Gino's arms were crossed on his chest, looking back at Gentile.

Gentile pulls out two envelopes. Both had the same exterior design, with beautifully embossed letters and a new kind of insignia stamped at the backside of it. One was mailed to Salvatore Gentile, and the other was for him.

" What…is that?" gaped Gino while staring at the insignia. He has never seen it before…

Gentile throws it to Gino, who successfully catches it with one hand. He looks more closely at the insignia and swallows a gulp.

_Eiswein FC…_

* * *

Paris, France

" Of all the days Pierre had to leave…" Napoleon grumbled as he desperately fetched a knife to cut open his croissant. Well, _honey-filled_ croissant…

Slamming the knife on the side of his plate, he bites off the edge of the croissant, smiling a bit as he savors the taste of honey. And before he could eat it whole, another thing was slammed in front of him. He gaped, seeing it. Then he looks up, glowering at his annoying teammate, Amoro.

" Mail." He smirked dauntingly at Napoleon, who obviously offers a wonderful snarl.

" Mail…" Napoleon echoed, slowly putting down the croissant while looking into Amoro's eyes. " Tell me what's so interesting about this one that you _had_ to privately deliver it to me."

" Look at it first before you say it to my face." Growled Amoro.

He stares at him, then at the letter. He sighs " Later."

Amoro glowers and pushes the letter in front of him " Take a fucking good look at this, Napoleon!"

He had a late reaction.

Napoleon stares at the letter's insignia while his eyes slowly widen in utter shock… " What's…the meaning of this, Amoro…?" he found it hardly believable…

But his teammate's face showed utter importance. " It's as plain as what you can see, Louis, my dear mate."

He pauses to look at Napoleon's stricken gaze.

His croissant was abandoned.

* * *

Hamburg, Germany

… _So I hope you're feeling all right. Tell Mary that I miss her. _

_Love, Karl_

_Post. Script., I loved the chocolates you sent me._

Schneider smiled softly, looking at a three-paged letter he was about to mail to his family. He delicately fingers the letter, folding it in half and inserting it in a white envelope. He sits up straight and looks at his packed luggage dully resting on the foot of the bed, then at the _Eiswein_ envelope resting on top of it.

He was thinking of catching the second train. Looking at his watch, he'll probably leave in about half an hour to Schwerin, Germany.

" I wonder…" he murmured, thinking if it was going to be joining any other normal team. Because ever since he received that letter, he felt so oddly tense. This wasn't like the cool and composed Schneider that he is.

It only means that there's something interesting brewing in _Eiswein_.

Or it could be the other way around.

Scrambling for the letter, he takes another peek in it, glancing for any suspicious stuff hidden at the edges. But there was nothing. It was like any ordinary innocent letter. But why was he tense?

He looks at his watch again… 20 minutes left…

He quickly sheaths himself with his leather jacket before grabbing his luggage. He gets on his boots and walks outside. He glances at his watch again and walks towards the room at the far end of the hallway. After knocking, he awaits the owner of the dorm room greet him.

The door opens with Franz Schester, gazing at his Captain with a small biscuit hanging from his smooth lips. " C-Captain…"

Obviously not forgetting his envelope, he places it on Schester's palm, telling him to give it to his parents once you go to their district this weekend. " Am I clear?" he asks him with an authoritative voice.

" Yes…" Schester murmurs blankly, still looking at Schneider in disbelief. " You're serious… don't tell me you're really leaving."

The blond captain sighs. " Schester, I need to go. I want to. You don't have power over me to stop my going to Schwerin. This team will still be powerful. You have Karltz, and Margus…"

Schester flushes a little, aware of this, but for Schneider to point it out!

" You're even a big asset to the team." Adds Schneider.

" But without you, it won't be the same!" Schester blurts out in a baffled voice.

And to his fear, Schneider's expression changed in fury. " I'm sorry, Schester. I think this is for my own good…"

He turns around, about to head for the stairs. " I have a train to catch. Goodbye."

Then he leaves without another word…

* * *

Saõ Paulo, Brazil

Stillness. Tsubasa's dorm was ever so quiet. Then there was a shaking noise. The mahogany floor echoed with a discordant creak…then the door flies open. Ozora Tsubasa, met those calm, gray eyes… eyes that would only equal to those of that famous cyborg soccer player…

" Carlos… Santana…" Tsubasa mutters incoherently, lost in those calm eyes of his…

Santana raises a suspicious eyebrow. " Errm… Tsubasa…" he stretches out an _Eiswein_ letter towards him. " Cut the theatrics and tell me if you've received a letter like this."

" I…did." Tsubasa looks away. " I guess you have one too."

" Are you going?" Asked Santana in a desperate voice, yet his eyes still had the same coolness.

Tsubasa remained gazing on the hard floor, finding it more interesting to stare at than Santana's scary expression. " I… don't know. I mean, to join but I don't want to leave Brancos either."

" Tsubasa, playing for Brancos alone won't help you strengthen being a professional soccer player…"

" But what about Roberto!"

" Tsubasa!" nagged Santana in a frank voice. " I already told Roberto, and he agrees with me. Please join _Eiswein_, Tsubasa…"

The Japanese genius looks up at him, his eyes showed traces of fear.

Santana only forces out a comforting smile, which was so unlikely of him to do, but he does so only towards Tsubasa.

" Well then, I'll be seeing you again, Tsubasa." Santana was about to turn around when he hears Tsubasa heave a sniffle.

" Arigatou, Santana…" he smiles and looks up at the handsome Brazilian, who returns a nod.

As soon as the Brazilian striker left, Tsubasa went to pack all of his things.

Training Ground

" Do you think _Eiswein_ will be as good as Coach claims?" Kaede turns towards Pierre, who was busily looking up the sky with so many stars.

" Probably." Pierre smiles a bit. " He goes this far just to raise a team… think about that."

Kaede huffs a breath while cupping her chin in wonder. " You do have a point there, Captain."

" What I'm afraid of… is the squad."

The manager's eyes suddenly light up, looking at Pierre, who was flushing a bit, fingering his blond locks away from his face. It was a good thing Pierre didn't discern the wicked smirk spread across her face. " Afraid…? Why are you afraid of the squad?"

When Pierre looked at her, a totally innocent look appears. It's almost puzzling… and sinister.

" Uhh… I…" he pauses to gulp, unaware that Kaede was making a lot of mental notes at the moment. " I don't think I'm fit to lead when there are others who make much more better Captains that I do…"

Like stars that fell from the sky, Kaede's brain felt like falling from her head. _" What? That's all?"_ _And…he even sounds so sincere of himself! Is this still Elle Cid Pierre?_

Pierre suddenly smirked " You were expecting me to blurt out some secret, are you?"

_Yep, still him._ " You're sometimes freaky, Captain. Why would I do such a terrible thing?"

That smirk that graced his lips widened. He suddenly grabs Kaede's hand and kisses it mockingly. He pulls away and goes back to the dorms, striding in glory.

The manager could only look at his disappearing figure then looks up at the night sky. The stars were all in a neat array… well, not so neat but very radiant. She could never see such a sky in a city.

Eiswein FC in all its glory… 

She smiles a bit. _I would wish to see that._

* * *

Author's Notes: WAHAHAHA! Finally! Eiswein FC, my own, purdiful team of the greatest players in Captain Tsubasa! I wanna hug someone! Anyways, even if they are the greatest players in Captain Tsubasa, they won't be…that great once they face the leagues!! Muahahahahahaha!

_Take note I didn't mention Tsubasa. I just did it for surprise. XD_

_**!!!Please READ!!!**_

_**This is absolutely NOT related to the canon of Captain Tsubasa!**_

_**OOC in the some possible situations!**_

_**There will be characters you didn't know existed in Captain Tsubasa!**_

_**Do NOT FLAME me from my lack of soccer-hiring-whatever knowledge that I need to know!**_

_**CAPTAIN TSUBASA—I DON'T OWN!**_

_**I only own Kaede, and Coach Kopen Miller!**_

_**These warnings should be read to prevent any further miscalculations, etc… I will take note of things that need to be taken care of as it progresses. XD**_


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